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<title>The Effects of Concecrated Ground by The_Bentley</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888575">The Effects of Concecrated Ground</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley'>The_Bentley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Five Hundred Word Challenges [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Community: Good Omens Fic Writers Workshop, First Time, Healing, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Injury, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Link, Mild Blood, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:48:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888575</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale tends to Crowley's burned feet after Crowley rescues him from the church in 1941.  But his realization that he loves Crowley leads them both to other activities.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Five Hundred Word Challenges [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>GOFWW Guess the Author Round 1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Effects of Concecrated Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a guess the author game. Publication date changed to reflect reveal of authors.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crowley threw his head back against the couch with a hiss. His hand clutched at its well-worn arm, bunching up the ancient blanket thrown across it. Aziraphale knelt before him, a bowl of water beside him, a cloth in his hand he was using to wash the bottoms of Crowley’s burned feet. He looked up with sky blue eyes, upset to see his friend in so much pain.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>“S’ok. S’it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”</p><p>“I should have not been so trusting. Hold still, please. I’m going to put ointment on and wrap them.”</p><p>Crowley cried out in pain again, his entire body going rigid as Aziraphale tended to his wounds. They were holy wounds making it impossible for either of them to simply miracle the burns away like they would for any other kind of wound inflicted. Aziraphale tried to ignore his discomfort and just get on with what needed to be done, but it was hard. How did human healers do this every day? He swallowed the apologies that wouldn’t help Crowley, getting back to it. He dabbed away blood pulled to the surface before slathering Crowley's feet in burn cream and wrapping them in soft gauze while Crowley whimpered in pain. Aziraphale’s apologies became a mantra in his mind. <em>I’m sorry, Crowley. I’m truly sorry. </em></p><p>
  <em> Don’t worry about it, angel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Crowley? </em>
</p><p>“You’re thinking so loud I can hear you. C’mere.”</p><p>Aziraphale crawled up on the couch, sitting next to Crowley ramrod straight until he beckoned him closer. Crowley held out his arms, Aziraphale pausing before leaning in for the demon to put his arms around. It felt blissfully wonderful. He didn’t know what he had been missing, but Aziraphale hadn’t realised he loved Crowley before tonight. How long had Crowley known? Or himself been in love with Aziraphale?</p><p>“I . . .”</p><p>“I know. You don’t need to say anything.”</p><p>Thus, they didn’t. Instead, after sitting in the silence for a time, they replaced conversation with kisses. Tentative ones at first that grew bolder as years of pent-up passion seeped out, finally no longer having to remain bottled up. The passion tied up in those few kisses led to more, neither one of them knowing when they started shedding clothing or whose idea it was. Crowley felt Aziraphale’s hard cock pressing into his stomach, the longing shooting through him.</p><p>“Angel, you’re killing me. Please?”</p><p>Aziraphale was then lowering himself onto Crowley’s cock, moans breaking out between kisses and caresses, the feeling of the angel’s tightness the closest Crowley was ever going to get to Heaven again. It lasted forever, yet seemingly no time at all passed before they both cried out, clinging to one another. Aziraphale unseated himself, standing to scoop up Crowley in his arms.</p><p>“What? No afterglow?”</p><p>“You can’t walk on those feet, and you can’t convalesce in my bookshop. We’re heading up to the bedroom.”</p><p>There, Crowley received plenty of afterglow, along with other things, while he lay in Aziraphale’s bed, bandaged feet healing.</p>
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